Morning Announcements
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Welcome to Night Vale High! Today's announcements include sales of fall play tickets, news of our new Science teacher, and, of course, Carlos.


-Hello, readers, and welcome to my first ever Welcome to Night Vale fic! I recently listened to the podcasts and fell in love with the series (and Cecil and Carlos :)) Cuz seriously, how cute are these two!? So, this is a modern AU, which takes place at Night Vale High, but like, in OUR world. I don't know if I'll stay in this universe for other fics, or if I'll switch around, I'll have to see.

Also, in this, Carlos is seventeen and Cecil is eighteen.

Happy reading! If you like it or have a favorite part to share, leave a review! I also take requests, although warning for those who might want rated-M stuff: I am not very graphic/detailed at all; so if you want that, please find another person to write it for you.

Anyway, enjoy!-

-Morning Announcements-

MORNING ANNOUNCEMENTS WERE GETTING ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS.

"...and this morning, I happened to notice our new student again. Remember him? Carlos Garcia? Lovely Carlos Garcia, with the perfect hair and that smile...Anyway. Yeah, I noticed him again, when I was walking to homeroom. He had this ADORABLE red hoodie on. I don't even know—Oh wait, Principal Magnus is telling me to shut up about my personal life again. Anywayyyy..."

Carlos didn't even bother to listen anymore because he was currently banging his forehead on his desk. After three further failed attempts at suicide, he just rested his face on the desktop. The cool surface helped his red-hot blush as the entire homeroom class around him burst into laughter. Raucous wolf-whistles and catcalls rang from every corner of the room. He thought it'd been bad at the beginning of his first few days here, but three weeks had passed, and the students' words were actually getting worse.

"Hey, Carlos! I heard your BOYFRIEND on the announcements again!"

"Tell him to talk about how cute your SHOES are next time!"

"I'm requesting a full description of Carlos's eye color tomorrow!"

"Carlos, I really don't know why, but I think Cecil has a crush on you! Just a hunch!"

Groaning in despair, Carlos folded his arms on his desk and buried his face in his hoodie. (yes, he was indeed wearing a red hoodie, with a black atom drawing on the front. Don't judge; he was a full-blown nerd.) This had been going on since the FIRST FREAKING DAY he arrived at Night Vale High School. Yes, that's right, since Day One, a boy that Carlos only knew by a voice and the name Cecil Palmer, had developed a crush on him. First, it had been a short comment on his hair. Then, it escalated to his eyes. And by the end of the first week, the tiny crush had morphed into one of magnificent proportions.

Cecil Palmer was evidently crazy about Carlos.

Carlos wasn't sure what he felt about this.

Was it creepy to hear someone talk about you every day? Yes. Was it even creepier when that person gushed over how much they liked you? Absolutely. Carlos was thoroughly unnerved by the whole situation. He definitely hated the attention this was all bringing him. He most DEFINITELY did NOT return Cecil's feelings. Not at all. Nope. Even if hearing Cecil's voice on the loudspeakers made Carlos shiver a little, because God, his voice was like honey spilling off of his tongue...

"Ugh," Carlos muttered into his sleeves. "Stop it." As if he could tell his brain to stop thinking about Cecil's (smooth, silken, honeyed, beautiful) voice. Dammit.

"Carlos?" The voice, (and this one was light and thin) came from the squat, redheaded homeroom teacher, Mrs. Smythe. She was standing behind her desk at the front, blue eyes questioning.

Hesitantly, Carlos lifted his head. "Yes, Mrs. Smythe?" he asked. He felt as though he was bracing himself for a bombing. After all, the announcements were still droning on and at any time, Cecil could come on again and rave about Carlos's eyebrows or something.

"Would you mind taking this note to the office for me?" She held up a folded paper in her fingers.

"Umm..." Carlos's gaze slid away to the dark gray, carpeted floor. He hated running errands for other people.

Mrs. Smythe's eyebrows flicked up. "You could have a chance to get out of this classroom," she suggested.

As if on cue, the students erupted once more: "Carlos and Cecil, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Carlos resisted the urge to beat his head off his desk again. Seriously, weren't they all in high school? Seventeen seemed too old to be singing taunting songs about others. So he eyed that letter in Mrs. Smythe's grasp like it was made of gold. "I'll take it."

He wasn't too worried about going to the office. He figured he could sneak past the door that led to Cecil in the announcements room. Shouldn't be too hard, right?

He should've known he was screwed.

-X-X-X-

When Carlos made it to the frosted glass doors of the office, he paused outside. Announcements were nearly over. Soon, Cecil would be done and heading back to class. Carlos was going to have to do this carefully. God forbid if he was caught by the crazy guy who went nuts over him. Taking a steadying breath, he pulled open the door.

Inside, there was the same carpet that was in the rest of the school, except the cafeteria, of course. The windows of other doorways were all frosted glass too, obscuring the figures inside. Hallways branched off to other places, to guidance counselors and the principal's office. To the left, a huge, ebony desk sat. Behind it was Ms. Olsen, the secretary. She was older, with dark brown hair pulled back and hazel eyes behind spectacles. She glanced up from her computer screen when Carlos walked in. "Oh, hi, Carlos," she greeted warmly (they always liked the smart ones). "What can I help you with today?"

A half-smile appeared on Carlos's face in return. "Um, I have a note...?" He held up the folded paper uncertainly.

"From who?" Ms. Olsen asked, squinting through her spectacles.

"Mrs. Smythe." Carlos flipped the paper over, brow furrowing. On the back, there was flowing writing in blue pen: To Principal Magnus. "It's supposed to go to Principal Magnus," he added.

"Ah, okay, then. His office is right back there."

"Thanks."

"Yep. Right past the announcements room." Ms. Olsen pointed briefly before going back to her typing.

Meanwhile, Carlos had paused halfway across the room. Suddenly, his hands felt a little clammy and his confidence was wavering a whole lot more. "Uhhh...What?" he asked, stalling.

"Past the announcements room," Ms. Olsen replied, blinking at him. "You know where the principal's office is from there, don't you?"

"...yes."

"Because if you don't," she went on helpfully, "you can ask Cecil; I'm sure he's still in there."

"Nononono, that's fine," Carlos stammered, waving his hands in a denying gesture. The paper flapped loudly. "I—I was just wondering... Could you maybe take it?"

Now, she just waved a hand at him dismissively. "Oh, dear, you'll be fine. It's right down that hall, right there. Go on, now."

"Okay." Cursing his luck, Carlos stared down that hall. It suddenly seemed impossibly long and ominous with the dark walls that dominated Night Vale. He could make out the principal's door at the end, waiting. Off to the left, uncomfortably close, was that door. THAT door. Swallowing, he started off.

At first, there were no problems. He made it a full four steps in without running into you-know-who and without dropping the note he was carrying. He even made it past THAT door. Yes, one full step past. Then, he paused. Because of course, his curiosity was getting the best of him. He'd never actually seen you-know-who, after all. If he had, he hadn't recognized it. So this was his chance to see if that person matched his amazing voice... Leaning over, he tried to peer through the glass window. But it was blurry, frosted glass, as usual; he only made out a fuzzy scene of blacks and grays and a faint hint of purple. Oh well.

Releasing a small (relieved, yes, he was relieved, not disappointed at all) sigh, he continued down the hall. At the end, he knocked politely on Principal Magnus's door. He was nearly scared to death when that door swung open mightily only seconds after, revealing the bulky, black-suited form of his principal. Principal Magnus was a bald man with dusky skin and beady eyes. Not many people liked him, but he seemed okay to Carlos.

"What is it?" Magnus asked, in a raspy, deep tone. His shoulders practically filled the doorway.

"I have a note for you," Carlos answered sheepishly. "From Mrs. Smythe."

"Ah. Let me see."

Obediently, Carlos handed over the note. Magnus practically tore it from his grip because of his strength. Snapping it up to his face, he read the words obnoxiously fast. Then he glared back down at Carlos. "Thank you."

"You're welcome?" It came out sounding like a question.

Magnus simply arched a brow. "Shouldn't you be going back to class?" he asked.

Carlos took one look at the man's huge figure and wilted. "Yes. Yes, I should. Goodbye." Politely, he waited until the door shut again behind Magnus's back. Then he spun away and hurried back down the hall. He glanced heavenward for strength and gave an exaggerated shudder. There was something strange about Magnus, that was for sure. A little too intense for Carlos's liking.

He was much too caught up in his own thoughts now. He didn't realize that at first though. At first, he was just trying to get back to his classroom before first period started. He had Calculus first and there was no way he could miss that and he needed to make sure he got a pass and—

And, suddenly, there was a door clicking open in front of him. A door with ANNOUNCEMENTS printed on a golden plaque across the front. THAT door. Oh my God. Carlos skidded to a halt, words already caught in his throat. "I—Um—Er—Sorry—I was just—" He shouldn't have spoken. He might not have been noticed then. But the person opening the door turned toward him and he cringed for the barrage of awkward moments. Then the door fell shut, revealing the boy without foggy glass in the way.

That was when Carlos did the most stupid thing ever. His jaw dropped open and he stared like a complete moron.

Cecil Palmer was absolutely gorgeous. He had a styled wave of white-blonde hair and violet eyes. Seriously, violet eyes; so odd, but so incredible at the same time. He was looking at Carlos with a wide-eyed, surprised expression on his face. In a dreadfully cute way, his glasses frames matched his eyes and the soft sweater he wore. In a more-hot-than-cute way, he had form-fitting, black jeans and freaking purple Converses.

Carlos couldn't seem to remember the English language. Then Cecil broke into a huge smile and it sent Carlos's heart into backflips.

"Carlos! What're you doing here?" Holy shit, his voice was even more intoxicating in person, all melodic and low.

"I was, um. Well, I mean, I was just giving a note to someone." Carlos shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket nervously.

"Oh, so you didn't come here to see me?" Cecil asked, hope ringing in his words. But then he shrugged. "Oh well, that's fine. I got to see you anyway. Have we ever actually talked before?"

Carlos's mind was bombarded with this and he suddenly couldn't get past one simple fact: Cecil was hot. "Wait a minute," he said, holding up a hand. Cecil waited, hands in his pockets. "Are you...are you Cecil? From announcements?" He had to make sure.

"Well, yeah!" Cecil answered enthusiastically. "I guess I shouldn't have expected you to know me, considering I never spoke to you before."

"I'd recognize your voice anywhere," Carlos replied without thinking.

Toeing the carpet, Cecil blushed. "Really? I—I mean, thanks."

Carlos ran a hand through his hair as an excuse to glance away for a second; black curls just flopped back into his eyes again anyway. "I didn't think I'd meet you, honestly," he admitted.

"Why not?"

"I shouldn't tell you."

"Yes, you should."

"Cecil."

"I'm gonna keep asking." Cecil flashed a heartstopping grin.

Carlos relented. "I was kinda afraid, a little," he confessed.

At this, Cecil wrinkled his nose in puzzlement. "Afraid of what?" he asked.

"You."

"Me?" Cecil's face fell slightly, shoulders slumping. "Why?"

Carlos couldn't help it. He let out a burst of dry laughter. How could Cecil not know? "Because of your announcements," he explained. "I thought you were some stalker that had a thing for me."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that." Cecil rubbed the back of his neck shyly. Not shy enough, perhaps, to hint that he'd stop the lovestruck announcements after this, though. "Guess I did sound stalkerish."

Carlos shook his head at him. "How do you not get in trouble for that, anyway?" he asked.

"Oh, I do," Cecil replied lightly. "Magnus always yells at me through the door. So I stop talking about you until he leaves, then I start again. It's funny; I can have him running back and forth in the hallway for twenty minutes straight."

Carlos snickered, because it was kinda funny. Cecil was kinda funny. And kinda cool, and kinda nice, and kinda amazing to look at. "That's awesome," he remarked, because it was. He'd love to see Magnus scurrying back and forth, as Cecil rambled on about Carlos's hair in the background.

Cecil looked like he'd just won the lottery because Carlos thought something he'd done was awesome. "It is, isn't it?" he asked mischievously. "I love messing with him. He'd never take me off announcements either; I'm the only guy in school who likes doing it."

Carlos found himself smiling. "And actually makes it interesting."

Another bashful flush rose in Cecil's face. "Th—thank you."

Carlos's pulse skittered. I like him, he thought, but not like THAT, that is, I like him as a friend, just a friend. Yes, a friend. He kept telling himself that as he peered over Cecil's shoulder at the clock on the wall of Ms. Olsen's office. Eight-o'clock. "We better get back to homeroom," he said hesitantly. "We only have five minutes until first period."

"Oh yeah, I can't fail Calculus," Cecil remarked, already starting to turn away.

"Wait, what?" Carlos hurried after the other boy, walking side by side as they passed through Ms. Olsen's office (she smiled politely at them and Cecil flashed her the peace sign with two fingers).

"I have Calc first period," Cecil explained. Opening the office door for Carlos, he stepped aside to let him pass.

For some reason, Carlos held his breath as he slipped past Cecil and into the hall. For two seconds, they were inches from each other. "But I have Calc first period," he said accusingly. "Why didn't I ever see you there before?"

"For starters, I sit in the back, way behind you," Cecil told him. The two began the trek out of the lobby together, Carlos's red sneakers looking plain beside Cecil's bright purple shoes. "And I never talk in that class very much. I'd rather take notes than answer questions."

Carlos slanted a sideways glance at him. "You could've said SOMETHING though."

"Like what?" Cecil asked.

Dropping his gaze down to the floor, Carlos ventured, "you could've said hi to me."

"O—oh." Cecil's lips quirked up into a small smile. "I don't think so. I was always too shy to talk to you."

"You're talking to me now," Carlos pointed out. Despite his earlier opinions, he was warming up to the other boy. Sure, he'd been apprehensive about Cecil, but that was before he even met him. He shouldn't have been so quick to judge.

Cecil shrugged with one shoulder. "I guess I am. But only 'cause you talked to me first." Then he gave a little skip of delight. (Cecil Palmer was the only eighteen-year-old that could skip and look like a cute dork, rather than just a dork) "Which I can't believe!"

"You thought I'd never talk to you?" Carlos asked, delighted at the other boy's giddiness.

"Well, you know..." Cecil scrubbed at the back of his head, mussing his pale hair. "You're YOU. You're, um, you're perfect. And I'm..." He released a slight breath and dropped his hand. "...me."

Carlos was so taken aback by this that he paused in the middle of the hall. Stopping too, Cecil looked at him questioningly. It was just...Carlos couldn't believe that someone else thought that HE was perfect. Him! The geeky, book-reading, science nerd! And out of all the people, it was Cecil who thought this; funny, giddy, beautiful Cecil. Carlos never would've imagined his "stalker" as the person in front of him now.

Maybe that was why he was able to do the very silly, stupid thing he did next.

"Carlos?" Cecil studied Carlos's face, puzzled at his silence. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Carlos replied, suddenly nervous. His hands were bunching in his hoodie pocket.

"Then why're y—?"

"I just," Carlos cut him off in a hurry, "that is, I was thinking, of, um, I'll just—" And he flitted forward to touch a gentle kiss to Cecil's cheek, simply because he knew how happy it would make him.

When he drew back, Cecil was gaping at him, lips parted, and a pretty pink in his cheeks. "Oh..."

Carlos could feel his face burning furiously. "Right, uh, so, I gotta go to my locker before Calc," he went on quickly. "So, I'll see you there." He gave a brief smile and, embarrassed, scurried away down the hall. The whole time, he was thinking WHY DID YOU DO THAT CARLOS WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU JUST MET HIM OHMYGODOHMYGOD I CAN NEVER TALK TO HIM AGAIN.

Meanwhile, still standing alone in the hall, Cecil touched tentative fingertips to his cheek.

He could still feel Carlos's lips on his skin.

Just once.

Just gently.


End file.
